


August

by shcrlockholmcs



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shcrlockholmcs/pseuds/shcrlockholmcs
Summary: “Are you sure?” she whispered.“Never have I ever before,” Adora replied.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	August

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the song "August" from Taylor Swift's new album Folklore.
> 
> I essentially follow the plot/themes of the song throughout the fic. This is a short simple something that I am actually quite proud of.

It was the hottest summer Catra had ever experienced living in the Fright Zone.

Behind the Fright Zone there were cliffs that overlooked the expansive ocean. If one was careful enough they could sneak back there and breathe in the fresh salt air. The doors opening up to the cliffs were rusted—they creaked as they opened and the smell of old metal filled up the air before the salty air hit your face. 

Adora and Catra often snuck out to watch the sunset and breathe in something besides the clinical industrial smell of the Fright Zone hallways. Any respite they could get was worth the risk of getting in trouble with Shadow Weaver.

It was a magical thing when they stood out on the cliffs because they were the only things that mattered in the world. Their hopes and dreams shared in whispers. 

Late at night, tangled up in Adora’s bedsheets—Catra refused to sleep in her own bed—Adora wrapped her arms around her. She ran her fingers up and down Catra’s soft back, gently stroking the fur there as her shirt rode up with each movement. 

Catra’s purring enveloped both of them in a soft beautiful sound. 

And then Adora looked at her with hooded eyes and somehow Catra knew what she was thinking.

“Are you sure?” she whispered. 

“Never have I ever before,” Adora started but Catra closed the little distance between their faces and kissed her. 

The rusted springs of Adora’s bed squeaked and they giggled—filled with youth and the hope of it all. 

Their bodies tangled together, skin on skin, slipping away into this together. Always together.

Time slipped away. The memories blurred into one amazing summer haze.

The next day they snuck back out onto the cliffs—full of the hope of it all. It was summer and the sun was shining and the hope of a future together invigorated them. 

Adora took off her shirt and laid on her stomach in the sunshine, Catra sitting next to her and staring, mesmerized by the sun against her back. Her pale skin glistened with sweat and sunshine. Catra reached out to trace her name on Adora’s back, but stopped herself. Something was in her gut telling her to stop.

What would become of them when the war with the resistance got serious? Would they be separated—would Adora keep in contact with her? 

Catra stuffed the tears and sadness deep down inside her belly. At least now she had her, here, together.

“Meet me behind—at the cliffs,” Adora whispered to Catra daily when they passed in the halls between training sessions. 

And every evening they would find each other there and laugh until the sun disappeared behind the sea.

They continued like that through the humid days of summer—tangled in sheets, wanting one another, and becoming better together. Together they wanted it—something now and something for the future. It was more than enough for Catra—to keep her going, to get her out of bed in the morning. 

Hope was her life source, beating through her veins. 

One night Catra stole a patrol ship from the Horde and rode it until she found Adora.

“Come on, get on!” she shouted, laughing. They sped around the Fright Zone until Shadow Weaver caught them. They were severely punished but it was hard to care—this was everything Catra ever needed. Laughter, sunshine, tangled sheets.

Every day she kept herself unbusy—just in case Adora wanted to spend time with her. Just in case. 

Sometimes Lonnie would ask to hang out and Catra would agree—only to cancel last minute. What if Adora wanted to hang out? 

She could not fathom telling Adora no. 

Adora told her no. 

The summer faded and Adora went away. She went away to join the princesses of all people. Like a bottle shattered on the floor it was all gone—just like that. 

For weeks Catra’s dreams were haunted by the sound of Adora’s voice saying “meet me on the cliffs” and the smell of salty ocean air. Sometimes in between tossing and turning in their bed she would feel the delicate tracing of Adora’s fingers on the small of her back. 

Catra leaned against the railing that followed the edge of the cliffs and stared out into the endless ocean. 

“You were never mine, Adora. So much for our love—for when you used to say ‘us, together, always’—you were never mine,” Catra said to the waves and windy skies. “I guess that means you weren’t mine to lose, either.”

She pushed off the railing and turned to walk back inside the dreadfully lonely hallways of the Fright Zone. Full of people passing but never anyone looking or caring. She made the choice then and there to put a fortress of walls up—lock her feelings away, buried miles beneath it all—losing the hope of it all. 

Hope was not a word she knew anymore.


End file.
